


Told You So...

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, RP, sick!stiles, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets sick and Derek comes to check up on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Told You So...

**Author's Note:**

> Season: After Season 2.

Going to pack meets had become a regular thing for Stiles. It was surprising how quickly it fell into being a routine, helping Derek with the ‘pups’, trying to get them to work together, to get along. He’d been uncomfortable the first few times, but after a while it began to feel more and more like a family, like watching brothers and sisters fighting.

All the while, he got to see a side of Derek that he’d never really been familiar with - _the soft side_. He only really saw shadows of it, but he was sure it was there, buried deep under the tough exterior.

Derek wasn’t as involved in the ' _reindeer games_ ' as the rest of the pack was, he normally watched over them silently, guided them, gave them a hand, a sound word of advice. Mostly, he stood still, his arms crossed, a soft smirk on his face, right beside Stiles.

It was a comfortable position the two had worked into, Derek watching the pups, Stiles reading up on things, helping out in any way he could. He’d like to think they’d all become really comfortable with the state of things.

Which is why, one day, when he came to a pack meet, and they started acting weird around him, he knew something was up. It’d started in Lacrosse practice, the werewolf sniffing him curiously, and then it escalated. Even Jackson had given him a strange look.

By the time he was at Derek’s house, none of them would really get off of him, they just kept sniffing, poking and prodding him.

Even they, it seemed, didn’t really understand what was wrong with him. Jackson had made some rude, stupid comment about _ovulating_ , to which Stiles had smacked him over the head in response; they’d become comfortable enough for that kind of play.

Stiles climbed out of the jeep, exasperated, and annoyed, walking up to the front of Derek’s house as he tried to shove Isaac away, “Would you stop? Act like a normal human being for two seconds.”

* * *

Derek had been more at ease as of late, no immediate threats around to keep him on his toes. Unless you wanted to count the pack falling out of line from time to time or Stiles talking his ear off, but that would almost be a joke - the pack were just pups, hardly even a threat in Derek's eyes. And Stiles... Well, Stiles was just _Stiles_ , and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing either.

The Alpha had gotten used to the younger man's spastic behavior and the inane rambling, so much so that Stiles didn't really get on his nerves the way he used to. Sure, the kid still got under his skin, but it was in an entirely different way - almost like Stiles was sort of embedded there, like an itch that Derek couldn't scratch.

The Alpha kept quiet about his attraction towards the younger man. Small, subtle touches here and there on occasion. He'd actually listen to Stiles when the younger man went on some wild tangent about something Derek had no clue about. The werewolf had even made a point to let the pack know that they were to listen to Stiles if Derek wasn't around, practically putting the younger man second in command. They never acknowledged it aloud, but Derek was certain they knew about it.

Stiles though, the kid never realized when Derek was flirting - he was convinced Stiles wouldn't know if Derek practically smacked him in the face with it. But he was _trying_ , and he was bound to get somewhere eventually, right?  
  
Derek heard Stiles's jeep pull up outside and grinned almost involuntarily before walking out onto the porch. Today's meet wouldn't take too long, they just needed to discuss the new Alpha pack that had strolled into town less than a month ago, maybe spar for a little bit and then he'd sit back next to an oblivious Stiles - watching the rest of the pack romp and play.

A stifled chuckle escaped Derek's lips when Stiles smacked Jackson, it was nice to see all of them get along to a certain level - to all be so comfortable around one another. But something was a little off and Derek couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The Alpha came down the front steps with his brows pulled together, his face set in what probably looked like a pathetic attempt at concern. The pack had evidently forgot what personal space was, judging by the fact that they were all huddled around Stiles, inhaling and grimacing like the kid had rolled around in garbage. That's when Derek smelled it, the sickly aroma that reminded the Alpha of decrepit elderlies, or children with snot running down their faces. Stiles looked tired, a slight shadow under his eyes that Derek probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't picked up the scent.

The werewolf was standing about ten feet away from the little huddle when he felt a loud, protective growl roll up out of his chest, his lips pulling up in a slight snarl as he moved forwards. The pack dissipated almost instantly, all looking scorned and a little frightened - more or less looking like kicked puppies. The Alpha moved in next to Stiles and began mimicking what the pack were doing only seconds before, the tip of his nose brushing Stiles's neck a little as he sniffed.  
  
"Are you feeling okay?" The werewolf asked before backing up and placing a tentative hand on Stiles's shoulder.

Stiles looked up at once the moment he saw the alpha making his way over. He would’ve offered some sort of welcome, if the man hadn’t started growling right off the bat. He looked around as the pack moved away from him, eyes wide in fear as they cowered and Stiles turned to Derek again, just in time to see the werewolf lean in and begin to sniff him.

 _Really_? Was this going to become some sort of habit?

Stiles made some odd sort of sound when he felt Derek’s nose touch his skin, and he would’ve backed up, but Derek did so first.

“Uh, me?” He asked, pointing to himself, “Er, yeah? I’m fine. Why?”

Derek looked at Stiles seriously, eyebrows still drawn tight with concern. The younger man probably thought they were all nuts, the way they watched him like he was just going to collapse. That's when Derek realized he still hadn't removed his hand from Stile's shoulder. The Alpha cleared his throat, let his hand fall away and turned to glare at the snickering pack.

"Your scent," Derek turned his attention back to Stiles and tried to explain, "It's _off_ , you're probably getting sick."

“I’m **not** getting sick,” Stiles argued back, mostly out of habit, “I don’t ever really get sick, because I have a strong immune system.” Honest to goodness, he really **didn’t** get sick. It **was** flu season though, so Derek might have a- _no, no, he doesn’t have a point at all_. The second people start thinking they might catch something is the real moment that they open themselves up to it. Stiles wouldn’t get sick, he was fine.

Derek just chuckled at Stiles's stubbornness over something he couldn't control and looked at him knowingly, "If you say so."

Stiles **would** get sick and Derek would just say 'I told you so'. Okay, maybe not because that would be a little cruel and he'd been trying to win the younger man over - he'd bite his tongue. There was nothing else the Alpha could really do about it, except wait and see how it played out, maybe send Isaac or Erica out to the pharmacy after the pack meet to get a few things, prepare for the inevitable.

* * *

Stiles wasn’t going to tell Derek he’d told him so, but he had. The sickness had just started out small, a short cough and rough throat in the morning, but by the time it was noon, Stiles was so miserable he had to leave school.

He drove home in the same misery, and even crawled in bed with it, hoping that he could just sleep it out.

The next morning though, it was worse, and he decided to stay in. He was in so much pain that he couldn’t even bare moving from the bed, so he didn’t. His nose felt like it had a train sitting on it, his chest stung and his entire body ached.

It was actually ironic how much Stiles hated missing class, maybe even surprising to some, like his father, and Scott; and probably everyone he knew. But, more than anything, he hated being home alone. And he was quickly learning that there was worse; being home, alone, while he was sick as a dog.

The night after the pack meeting, Derek made his way through Stiles's window to watch the younger man sleep. Stiles probably would have told him it was creepy if he knew, so it was a good thing he didn't.

Even though the younger man's slumber had seemed restless, with all the tossing and turning, it still sated Derek to just be there, to see that Stiles was technically still in one piece. The aroma of the sickness was pungent, but the Alpha would endure it, just to be there for Stiles - even if Stiles didn't know about it.

Derek had the pack look after Stiles while they were in school, told them to text him if it got worse or if he went home. Surprisingly out of character, Jackson was the one to text him, letting him know that Stiles had called it a day and left. Derek was furious over the fact that they all let him drive himself home, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He watched Stiles again that night and felt his heart clench when he watched how miserable the kid seemed, even in his sleep.

The Alpha couldn't stand to watch him suffer anymore, so he ducked out of the window during the earlier hours of the morning. He went home to gather up all the stuff he'd sent Isaac and Erica after - the Thera Flu, Tylenol and Vicks Vabor Rub. He got a few hours of sleep, knowing that he'd probably need it and then made his way right back to Stiles's house as soon as he woke up.

* * *

When Derek came through the window that morning, Stiles was awake and he looked absolutely miserable. The Alpha set the bag of stuff on the desk and went over to the bed and sat down, lifting his hand up to Stiles's forehead to check his temperature.

"How're you feeling?" It was a stupid question, Derek already knew the answer, "You want me to run downstairs and make you some Thera Flu?"

Stiles was not only surprised by the sudden, welcome, company, but he was also very much pleased. He poked his head out from under the blanket the rest of the way, pulling it down to his neck as he looked up at Derek. His vision was sort of clouded, sharp in the center, but dull around the edges, and he wasn’t really sure if he was dreaming or not.

Arguing with Derek would probably be pointless at this rate. He was miserable, and he wanted the attention. And, even if it was a dream, he’d take what he could get. Dream Derek would probably just argue otherwise if he tried to say 'no'. The werewolf was normally more stubborn in his dream than–“outside of them, so I guess so.” He hadn’t realized that nearly the entire time, he’d been speaking aloud, but his head was hurting, and he just wanted to curl up and die, so he could probably say whatever he wanted, and–“–be safe.”

He was most-likely still talking aloud, but he just shrugged it off and let out a heavy breath. He felt hot, sticky, and his cheeks were–“–probably redder than tomatoes. But it’s, I don’t know... Did you say Thera Flu?” He looked up at Derek, even if it was Dream Derek, dream Thera Flu was better than none.

Stiles was burning up, the fever had to be through the roof. The fact that Stiles was babbling almost incoherently only solidified that assumption, the kid was delirious. Under any other circumstances Derek probably would have chuckled a little bit, but seeing Stiles so miserable wasn't really something he found humorous.

Derek let his hand slide from Stiles's forehead down to his cheek to thumb at the dark pink flush settling in the younger man's face, grinning sadly at the kid's misery. He could probably get away with the caress without Stiles assuming much considering he was so out of it.

The Alpha nodded and moved from the bed to the desk to get the box of Thera Flu out of the bag, turning to shake it triumphantly.

"I'll go make you some, just rest," And with that, Derek went down stairs to do exactly that.

The werewolf didn't have the patience to wait for water to boil the usual way, so he put a cup of hot water in the microwave to get the task done quicker. It beeped and he took the mug out, emptied a packet of Thera Flu into the steaming water and stirred it up. He walked carefully up the steps so he wouldn't spill any, entered Stiles's room and sat back down on the bed - setting the cup down cautiously on the headboard.

"Can you sit up, or do you need me to help you?" Derek rested a hand gently on Stiles's stomach.

Stiles had actually expected Derek to disappear after he’d left, that was how these dreams normally went, but he was almost startled when the werewolf came back into the room with a cup in hand.

He groaned at the question, nearly turning away before he recognized the pressure on his stomach and smiled, “That’s not normally where these dreams go, but okay?” Stiles felt like rot, he wasn’t exactly sure what Derek was saying but he turned to look at the cup and his head dropped against the pillow. It was probably poisoned anyways.

Derek had to fight back a grin. Stiles actually thought that this was all a dream, that none of it was real. It made the Alpha wonder if it was because he didn't normally show much compassion, or if it was actually just because Stiles was so feverish. But the best part about it, was that apparently Stiles had _dreamt about him_ \- and in a very non-platonic way.

The werewolf leaned forward, picked Stiles's arms up and wrapped them around his neck. He slid one hand under the younger man and pulled him to an upright position. Stiles wouldn't have to stay like that for long, but Derek needed to make sure he got the medicine in him. The Alpha grabbed the mug and put it in Stiles's hands, wrapping his own around the younger man's for a second before pulling away.

"Be careful, it's hot," Derek said, waiting patiently for Stiles to sip at it, "Should help break your fever. If not, I brought Tylenol as well."

Stiles practically slumped against Derek as he was lifted, and he felt the warmth being pushed into his hands, two palms set around his, and he opened his eyes just as they removed themselves, “Feels like Mount Doom,” He muttered, grinning at the heat of it, “Did you use your heat rays?” His head nearly fell forward as he lifted the cup and Stiles took a tentative sip of it.

His entire mouth tasted like sick, flu and sinuses, so he didn’t really grimace at the flavor of the drink. It was mostly the heat that bit at his lips and he held it back out to Derek, “Can you take this?”

Derek took the mug and sat it back on the headboard. Stiles didn't drink it all, but if it didn't help break the fever - it wasn't like he didn't have other methods to try. Normally he probably would've argued with the younger man to finish it, but he looked so weak and pitiful.

The Alpha had never really taken care of anyone before, never really **had** to - so this was all new to him and he wasn't sure what to do next. He knew that when School let out the pack would probably stop by, to check in and see if they could help. Derek knew he probably wouldn't let them though, despite his lack of knowledge on what to do. He'd figure something out, **he** would be the one to look after Stiles and see him through this temporary sickness.

"Do you want to lay back down?" Derek asked, hand instinctively reaching out to touch the younger man's face tenderly, "You need anything else?"

Stiles grinned as his head dropped back and he blinked slowly, stretching. He ran his hand through his hair, looking around the room and frowning when he saw Derek, “What are you doing over here?” He stared, brows notched together as he looked at the cup of Thera Flu and reached out for it again.

"It had felt like a dream. It didn’t really-"- _look like one_ , and he was in enough pain that he shouldn’t have even fallen for it but... He did. It had to have been a dream, though, _Derek Hale doesn’t just come to your house with_ –“–warm cups of lava,” He was saying as he shifted to get out of the bed, clad only in boxers as he stood and looked around. He started to walk, feet dragging, and the floor was getting closer to his face.

Derek watched Stiles make his way out of the bed with a slight perplexed look on his face, muscles tense and ready to move if the younger man needed him.  Stiles was still delirious and speaking in broken fragments, not making a lick of sense. The kid could hardly move around in bed, so it didn't come as much of a surprise when he started to fall.

The Alpha acted as quick as possible, arms reaching out to grab Stiles by the waist to keep him from hitting the floor. If it weren't for Derek being like a support column, then Stiles would undoubtedly just slide back down onto the floor. The werewolf stood there for a minute, arms wrapped around him almost in a hugging manner, Stiles's scorching bare skin pressed against him.

"Where were you going?" Derek swallowed, trying his best to keep his eyes on Stiles's face and not his body, "You could have hurt yourself."

“The bathroom?” Stiles guessed, turning his face into Derek’s neck and grinning, “God, you smell **really** good.” Truth was, the alpha smelled like he _always_ did, but having him this close, Stiles had to breathe him in again before dropping his forehead against the older man’s collar bone, staring down his front, stomach, shirt, all the way down to his shoes.

Dreams like these were his favorites - when Derek was so attentive and caring, and gentle with him, like he was going to break or something. It wasn’t anything he’d see outside of them, but he could take a moment to enjoy it, no matter how horrible he felt.

His hands grasped the leather of Derek’s jacket, fisting in it as he closed his eyes. Everything hurt, everything was sore, and ached, and being this close to Derek was making it hard to stand. _Dreams shouldn’t hurt so much_.

"You can hardly stand up, Stiles," Derek said softly, one hand rubbing soothing circles at the small of the younger man's back, "It's not _ideal_ , but I'll help you."

Derek was gentle about it when he picked Stiles up, more or less just lifting his feet off the ground so that he could maneuver him into the bathroom easier. This wasn't on his list of things he wanted to do to Stiles, but the kid needed the help and he didn't plan on neglecting him.

The Alpha put Stiles back down once inside the bathroom, hands on the younger man's hips to turn his body around so that he was facing the toilet. Derek stood behind him with one arm firmly around his midsection to keep him up.

"You need me to hold it for you as well?" The werewolf joked, his breath warm against Stiles's ear.

“Isn’t that how this goes?” Stiles was only _half_ serious, and he swallowed, he’d definitely had weirder dreams, peeing around Derek wasn’t really a problem; as long as it wasn’t actually happening. Still, though, he got done as quickly as possible, mind pretty much stuck on the alpha behind him, the firm, strong hands on his waist. They weren’t really doing anything sexual, but he didn’t mind, he kind of liked this, just a simple - though odd - dream about Derek Hale.

Stiles flushed the toilet and moved to the sink carefully, hands reaching out and turning on the water to wash them. His whole **everything** felt horrible, his breathing was heavier, sharp, and even his ears ached.

Derek moved along with Stiles, never more than an inch away, one arm still wrapped around the younger man - his hand on Stiles's stomach. Constantly trying his hardest to ignore the offhand comments, putting his concern for the kid first.

As long as he'd known Stiles, he'd never really seen him sick. It was difficult to see such an otherwise happy, upbeat person look so drained and miserable. The Alpha didn't even really think about it as he pressed his lips to the younger man's bare shoulder. A small intimate gesture that said, 'I'm here for you'.

After Stiles washed his hands, Derek walked him back to the bed and helped him lay back down. The werewolf was gentle, more so than he was used to, but he'd have to be because he didn't want to add to Stiles's misery.

"You should rest," Derek suggested, his fingers moving through Stiles's hair to soothe him.

Stiles grinned and leaned into the touch, “Mm, yeah.” He would’ve given anything, to have actually had something like this at home, with him; that was probably why dreams existed, to give you that sort of company. He was going out, eyelids falling, probably switching over dreams, and it was a last attempt to hold onto the dream of Derek Hale, as he lifted his chin, pressing his forehead to Derek’s hand as he whispered, “Don’t go.” And then he was out.

"I won't," The werewolf responded quietly, watching Stiles's eyes flutter closed.  
Derek sat on the bed for a little while and just watched Stiles sleep, watched his chest rise and fall. School had let out but the pack hadn't shown. It was probably for the best though, he kind of liked it just being the two of them, spending time alone even though Stiles was sick. The Alpha leaned down and just let his lips rest on Stiles's forehead for a minute before standing, moving idly about the room. The fever didn't seem as bad as before, but he'd still need to give him some Tylenol when he woke back up. Derek sighed and then sat down in the computer chair, swiveling it back and forth as he stared at the walls for a few hours just to pass the time.

* * *

Stiles opened his eyes finally, staring up at the roof and groaning in annoyance. So sleeping it off obviously hadn’t worked, but he figured he was out of the worse of it. Hell, he actually felt better than he’d **thought** he might. It would probably pick back up once he got to sleep again, but staying in bed now was just going to make it hurt. His body was sore from sleeping all day and he sat up, taking a breath and stretching.

He yawned, eyes closed and fists in the air before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He turned, about to move when his eyes met the stony orbs of Derek Hale and he gasped, startling and falling back. His hip hit the side of his night stand and the cup of leftover - now cold - Thera flu poured down his backside.

Stiles turned, squeaking as it happened and looked down at the glass on the ground, “What the–?” He froze... It hadn’t been a dream? _Like..._ He’d actually said all that stuff to Derek? He looked back at the alpha werewolf and paled, “Wh-when did you get here?”

"I've been here since..." Derek said as he stood to fetch the towel that was hanging across the top of the bathroom door, he handed it to Stiles, "Earlier this morning."  
The younger man was clearly more alert and most likely, judging by his reaction, remembering all of the things he'd said to Derek. None of it was really a big deal, except that some of it **was** and Derek was trying not to think about that right now. Because he was here for Stiles, to look after and take care of him because the Sheriff was at work - practically leaving no one else to do it. Even if there had been someone else, Derek probably would have been pretty adamant about doing it himself.

The Alpha stood next to the bed, hands in his pockets as he offered a subtle smile. Everything would fall into place for Stiles eventually, Derek's gestures would begin to make sense and hopefully he'd just get it - sparing the Alpha his pride from having to actually say it aloud.

Stiles tentatively took the towel, instead using it to hold over the front of him, hiding his body the best he could as he all but crab-walked to his dresser, fished in it for clothes and backed up into the bathroom before shutting the door. _Oh my god_ , he’d been practically naked in front of Derek Hale, what was wrong with him?  _Oh god_ , and he’d _peed in front of Derek_. Stiles’s eyes went to the lifted toilet seat, then the sink, and he remember the soft, subtle flash of something ghosting his shoulder, and Derek’s hands had been on his waist... _But... No_ , he’d been completely delusional.

 _Too delusional, apparently, god_ , with the things he’d said to the werewolf. Misery and shame. He dropped his aching head against the door as he changed, wiping his back clean of the liquid and pulling his pants on one leg at a time before opening the bathroom door again and walking out, eyes on Derek as he moved around the bed to clean up the mess.

The Alpha stood with his back pressed up against the wall, arms folded over his chest like they always were. It was easy to see Stiles was freaking out, he didn't need his werewolf senses to know that much. He just wasn't sure what to do about it, because it seemed like anything he did would just cause Stiles to flip out that much more.

Derek kept his distance and cleared his throat, trying to keep himself slightly more professional now that the younger man was more alert, "Do you want some Tylenol? I could run downstairs and get you some water."

Stiles looked up from the floor and met Derek’s eyes. The werewolf had been here that **whole** time, watched over him, and taken care of him. _Gods_ , and the entire time he’d just thought it was some amazing dream. Especially since, considering, he’d wanted something like that, someone, for a long time.

He stopped, folding the towel up and moving to the hamper and tossing it in before he sat on the edge of the bed. He still felt rough, no where near a hundred percent, and he was tempted to be stubborn, and say that he could do it on his own, but _gods_ , he wanted to see Derek do it.

“Could you?” He asked, resisting the urge to touch Derek, that wouldn’t really help either of them - if he started acting weird, without the excuse of being delusional and sick.

"Yeah, no problem," Derek said, as he pushed off of the wall next to the window.  
On the way out of the room he'd stopped for a split second to run his finger's through Stiles's hair again, professionalism be damned. Stiles was bound to put things together, so it didn't matter. It's not like the Alpha was acting much different than usual, it was just that Stiles was normally pretty oblivious.

Stiles caught himself practically leaning into the touch mindlessly, and then he watched after Derek’s backside as his brows scrunched up. He was remembering his response to Derek’s touch just before he passed out, how he’d asked for the werewolf to stay, and he had. But Stiles wasn’t sure if the request would’ve even been necessary. Something was happening between them, he wasn’t sure what, but he had a feeling like he was missing something with their interactions.

Derek wasn’t actually acting _out of character_ , or any different from he usually did at pack meets... there was just more of it now, now that he was sick. They’d always been _more_ within each other’s parameters, maybe Derek more so than him, which was surprising. Shoving him against things, moving into his space, some times when it wasn’t even necessary. _Holy shit_ , something really **was** happening. And he was missing it.

Derek took the steps two by two downstairs and grabbed a cup from the cabinet, filling it with cool tap water before going back upstairs. The werewolf sat the glass down on the desk while he fished the Tylenol out of the bag. He emptied two pills from the container into his left hand before picking the cup of water back up with his right. Derek crouched in front of Stiles and offered the pills first, then the water to down them with.

Stiles looked up at the alpha as he entered the room, and he was sure his heart was hammering out an unusual rhythm as he watched the werewolf move to him, the calm stride of the man as he held out the pills and the water. He took them, fingers shaking as he gulped them down, staring at Derek all the while, and finally settling his glass in his hands as he breathed.

Derek rested a hand on Stiles's knee while he was still crouched, brows knit together as he listened to the heavy hammering of the younger man's heart. Whatever Stiles was thinking about, if he didn't stop it wouldn't bid well for his breathing - which he'd already been struggling with. The Alpha took the empty cup from Stiles's hand and sat it on the floor next to the bed, his left still on the younger man's knee.  
"Are you alright?" Derek asked, slightly concerned with how Stiles was staring at him.

Stiles wasn't really sure if he could say it. He was pretty positive that he was right, and Derek probably couldn’t say it either. It was just _happening_ , and neither of them could stop it. He wasn’t sure he **wanted** to, anyways. If this was going to work, it would have to **happen** first. And _gods, seriously, god_ s, he wanted it to.

He reached out with his right hand, shaking as he smoothed it out over Derek’s large paw. He managed to actually go a step further, the pads of his fingers brushing through the arm hair at the base of Derek’s wrist as he stared into the alpha’s eyes silently. Derek was a smart guy, he could figure it out.

Derek watched as Stiles touched his hand and arm, those beautiful tawny eyes looking at him knowingly. It seemed as if the younger man had figured it out and was subtly telling Derek that it was what he wanted as well.

The werewolf shifted forward a little, moving to his knees between Stiles's thighs. He made sure to move slow, giving the younger man a chance to back away at any second. And, when he didn't, Derek just grinned, cupped the nape of Stiles's neck and pulled the teenager's mouth to his own.

It wasn't a heated, or over-the-top kind of kiss, it was short and sweet in order to give Stiles time to process it and breathe. The werewolf felt triumphant but he kept calm as he looked into Stiles's eyes and ran the pad of his thumb over the corner of the younger man's mouth.

"It's probably a good thing I can't get sick," Derek said, a hint of humor in his tone as his eyes flickered down to Stiles's lips - thinking about how soft, warm and pliant they were under his own.

Kissing Derek made him feel very, very light-headed, and Stiles had never actually been a part of something like this. It was dizzying, and it felt good. Considering how wrecked he was, that was **actually** saying something. His heart was all kinds of stammering flutters of uplift and he had to let out the breath he held as Derek pulled away.

He grinned and responded, still somewhat breathless, “Yeah, well, you’ve been in my room all day, if you hadn’t gotten it from that, I doubt kissing me would actually do much more,” Using the term 'kissing', in reference to himself - and to _Derek_ \- was unusual, and he was sure it sounded that way, but it made him happy, to be able to say it at all.

Derek grinned subtly and looked at the bed, then back to Stiles, "You should probably lay back down and get some more rest. I could rub some Vicks on your chest if you want? Should help you breathe a little better."

The Alpha listened to the younger man's heart, the thumps and thuds were hammering at a rapid pace. If he was being honest, his was doing the same exact thing. To have wanted something for so long, to gravitate towards it so hopelessly and for it to finally happen - it was uplifting and breathtaking, made him inexplicably happy that Stiles finally figured it out. God knows it took the kid long enough, and the pack would probably almost be relieved that they didn't have to stay quiet about knowing any longer.

Stiles felt that familiar strike of nervousness at the thought of Derek seeing his naked chest, but, then again, he’d seen more than enough when they’d went to the bathroom and he’d all but watched Stiles pee. The werewolf didn’t seem to mind, at all, and he... Well, he was obviously interested in Stiles. What good would **not** showing a little skin now do?

He nodded, albeit a little nervously as he pulled his hand back and lifted the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his chest, arms, and then his head before folding it and setting it down on the mattress beside him. It almost felt like some sort of offering, to Derek, exposing himself, he’d never really had someone in the same room while he was undressing, unless well... Gym and Lacrosse didn’t really count.

The Alpha trained his eyes on the floor while Stiles was in the process of taking his shirt off, even though he'd already seen him practically naked. If Stiles was feeling a little timid, then Derek could give him some privacy. When the shirt was completely off though, the werewolf risked a look.

The bare expanse of skin was now familiar, but things felt a little different this time. Certain things had happened that made Derek feel that maybe he'd be allowed to do a few things. If Stiles didn't want or didn't approve of it, then he could always open his mouth and say so. The kid didn't have a problem with talking, Derek was sure of at **least** that much.

He leaned forward and placed his hands tentatively on the bare skin of Stiles's waist as he pressed a kiss to the center of the younger man's chest. It wasn't an overly suggestive gesture, just something that Derek had wanted to do before, but Stiles was so delirious and, at that point, he felt like he'd be taking advantage of him.

The Alpha let his mouth linger against the warm skin for a moment, feeling the steady but rapid beat of Stiles's heart against his lips. When Derek pulled back, he flashed Stiles a somewhat thankful smile, more or less for trusting him so much, and kissed him again - quick and chaste - before standing up and moving over to the desk.  
  
The Alpha pulled the container of Vicks out of the bag and unscrewed the lid. He took a sniff to see how strong it was and grimaced as he knelt back down in front of Stiles. If this were to become a common occurrence, he was starting to think that maybe he wouldn't mind. But those thoughts were for another time.

Derek got some of the pungent goo on his fingers and began to spread it generously across Stiles's chest, rubbing it in thoroughly. He was doing this to make the younger man feel better, but he'd be lying if he denied the fact that maybe this did something for _him_ , too.

Stiles watched with widening eyes as Derek pressed the soft, careful kiss to his chest. God, that seriously did things. He couldn’t even begin to imagine formulating words to try and explain exactly **what** it did to him, but _damn_ ; he was practically breathless just watching it transpire. That was definitely an image he was saving for later; Derek knelt before him, kissing his bare chest. Screw dreams, reality was so much better.

And then the alpha kissed him again, and that mind-whirring, toe-curling feeling took over as he smiled and kissed back. He watched as the werewolf walked to the desk and he couldn’t help reaching up and touching the spot where Derek had kissed him, his numb fingers grazing the soft heat of it as he smiled and pressed his fingers to his lips. Derek Hale had just **adored** him. That was a seriously new concept.

He sat still as the werewolf pressed the salve into his skin, never once looking away from him. Gods, he could be sick for the rest of his life, as long as he had this guy in it. “Thank you,” He said, throat rough from his lack of talking, which was both unusual and annoying.

Derek smiled but didn't lift his head to meet Stiles's penetrating gaze as he screwed the lid back on and wiped his fingers off on his jeans, "You're welcome."

The Alpha sat the little container on the floor next to the bed and forced himself to look up at Stiles. Despite the kid's sickness clouding his senses, they didn't need words for Derek to understand what Stiles was thinking. He'd made a point of it to figure Stiles out, learn what made him tick and memorize his mannerisms. It was nice to understand someone on such a different level and to want them to know you in the same sense.

"Did you want to lay back down?" The werewolf asked, his left hand moving to touch Stiles's forearm.

“Not really,” Stiles grinned at the gentle touch of the alpha. It was astounding to think of how far he'd come from the way he’d been when Stiles had met him. The cold piercing eyes of Derek Hale were warmed, even somewhat open. He’d never gotten to see it so intimately, though he’d had the icy orbs in his business since the moment Scott had gotten bitten.

“I kinda slept all day yesterday,” He shrugged, “and most of today, I’m kind of tired of sleeping, honestly.”

Derek thought about it and looked towards Stiles's bedroom door, "Wanna go downstairs and watch a movie with me? Although, I'm not sure if you're dad would appreciate coming home to find **me** in his house."

The Alpha knew just how much Stiles had been sleeping. It was a lot, of course, but he'd always assumed the best way to get over a sickness was to sleep it off and let your body do the work. At the same time though, he could understand where Stiles was coming from. Derek didn't mind taking care of the kid, but staying cramped up in his room was starting to get to him a little bit.

“He won’t be coming back until late, late tonight, so it doesn’t really matter,” Stiles stood, grabbing his shirt. He wouldn’t put it on until a little later, but it was probably best if he had it on hand. “And besides, you’ve been taking care of me and keeping me company, I don’t really think he can complain.”

Derek stood as well and made his way to the door, still cautiously watching Stiles move about in case he needed help. If the Sheriff wouldn't be back until later in the evening, then he could risk to stay a little longer, and chances were he'd hear the cruiser in the first place, that would give him enough of a heads up to get out.

Despite what Stiles said, he knew the man wouldn't exactly be thrilled to see Derek in his home - exonerated or not. The Alpha held out his hand silently in invitation, his eyes locked with the younger man's.

Stiles grinned and reached out, taking the hand in his as he moved in, careful to keep his chest at a distance as he pressed his lips to Derek's. It was light, open, inviting, and his free hand moved up, reaching around to touch the back of Derek’s neck. He felt his heart in his chest, thrumming up like the batting of a humming bird’s wings and he pulled back finally, staring at the werewolf, “So, about the things I said when I was half delirious with the flu...”

"You mean how you said that I smell good and asked If I use my heat rays to heat up warm cups of lava. I mean, that was pretty much you in a nutshell," Derek grinned as he teased Stiles, one hand coming up to touch his cheek.

Stiles puckered his lips as he fought back a smirk and punched Derek in the chest, “I thought I was dreaming. You don’t have any right to hold things I said against me. I’m pretty sure my brain was cooking at that point.” He moved, lacing his fingers in Derek’s and began to drag the werewolf from the room.

The Alpha followed behind Stiles, smiling ear to ear and chuckling, "I helped you go to the bathroom, I think I've earned the right."

"Oh my god, don't remind me."


End file.
